Interview = A time to sell yourself as persuasively as possible. Or you get the boot.

There have been quite many interviews in the past year for me.

One was for a teaching position at a moderately prestigious school. I messed it up by not bringing along my resume. When the headmistress asked for it, I said I'll mail it to you. She didn't give me her e-mail though.

Second was for an administrator position in a film academy. They asked that how did I find out about the job opportunity, I said that I looked at the ad in the newspaper and I google-d the academy (which I had not but I thought it spoke of my non-existent efficiency). They were impressed and asked me what the film academy was about and I faltered and couldn't come with anything and said, dumbfound "It's about film." They asked what favorite movies I liked and I said "the exorcist" (I hated that movie and will never see it again).

Third was for a diploma program in animation (the interview was a formality but one should still make a good impression). I proudly told them how awesome I am in art (drawing, sketching, Not painting though) and how anybody that has seen some of my work, has always praised it. They asked whether I brought it along and I said no, I haven't. Their look said "then why are you babbling on about it when you can not prove it with solid evidence you idiot". They asked if I knew about any of the softwares used in animation.  I answered that the only one I knew was photoshop ( I had never used it though) and I've used it plenty of times before. They asked what company software do I use and I hesitated for just a second and one of the interviewer's raised their eyebrows, I thought I covered it up when I answered correct that I used Adobe. One of the interviewer's closed his eyes in, I probably think, relief.

Fourth never happened. A friend recommended me for another teaching position at a different semi-prestigious school, the interview was to be at 9 o'clock in the morning. Great.
I woke up at 8, got dressed half asleep, actually woke up when I slightly burned my scalp with the hair-straightener. Put on some makeup and told Dad to drop me on his way to work. I was told to write an essay on "What makes a good teacher?" and after I finished, I had to wait till I was called. I waited, and waited and waited. I waited for an hour and half, during that time I even met a friend (who had recommended the job) as she was substituting there and got me some juice. After all that waiting, a lady came and told me to come tomorrow as the principal was busy. I took it as a sign that I was never meant to be a teacher. Always knew it but no reason not to explore all aspects to earn some cash in my free time.

The fifth and the most important interview was the admission interview to S university. This interview was just plain ol' weird. This interview was for my academic career, the most important aspect of my life was at stake here. And my interviewer's and I talked about Anime.

(Note: For those who do not know what Anime is, it is "A Japanese style/genre of animation. Movies and shows such as Akira, Princess Mononoke,Ghost in the Shell, Fullmetal Alchemist and Dragon Ball Z are all examples of anime. This style of animation used to be called "Japanimation" for a few years. The comic book equivalent is called manga."


Source: http://alankistler.squarespace.com/journal/2007/11/21/comicsci-fi-glossary.html)

So anyway, before the interview we were given a paper and pencil and were told to draw whatever. Great. As I looked around at what most of the interviewees were doing, they weren't really using their imagination. They drew whatever was in front of them, such as the window or a plant or a wall. There were some who were drawing from their imagination, I was one of them. I drew five expressions such as happy, sad, angry, bored (which actually looked drunk to me) and naughty. I gave it some personal as to how all these expressions would look like, such a happy face would have a bow tie and a balloon from its hand, the angry expression would have devil-like ears and horns and so on. As I went in and gave my drawing, the four interviewers were quite impressed. There were two that were talkers and there were two that were observers. The talkers kept on talking and asking questions without letting me complete any answer. It was frustrating and I wanted to scream out that "let me bloody speak!" But I didn't. I knew that it was a strategy to get me irritated and I just gave a serene smile while I half answered them. One talker wanted to know the story behind the expressions, I thought "Dude, there are no stories, it was just a top of mind thing" but I made them up and well, they were quite amused and laughed. They did get serious and asked that why was I trying for S when I got great skills to get into an art school. I told them my sob story of how I wanted to be a doctor and since that didn't happen, I looked within myself and then said that I found my niche (again). They were satisfied and I left. This all took place within three minutes. My future was decided within three minutes.

I got accepted to S university and I'm lovin' it. Post about that coming soon :)

So the conclusion of this post is quite simple, every interview teaches you something. Whether it's an interview that is just to kill time, an interview that would make or break you, or an interview that would change the way you see the world. Everything in your life teaches you SOMEthing. Open your eyes and accept the unexpected in a stride.

Maids = Masters of Manipulation

I live in Karachi, Pakistan. Our society in this dust filled, metropolitan city has a unique disability when it comes to domesticity.  The truth is that we just can't seem to accept the concept of domesticity, which involves cleaning the bathrooms, mopping the floors, dusting each and every showpiece and silverware and washing piles and piles of dirty clothes and dishes Every. Single. Day. Need I remind those who cringe with the thought that I have just accused housewives or even businesswomen at being lazy bums, what I mean is that it's not actually the women of the house who are doing 100% of the work. 95 % of the work is actually done by the maids that us women depend upon desperately.

The maids that our society depends upon are not the normal, hardworking kind of maids. Yes they are trying to make a living to support their families. Yes they come from miles and miles away from early in the morning till late evening risking the neglect their kids might feel, and yes, they don't have the women's rights as they live in a part of the city where feudalism is rampant. There are still those people who have made lives miserable for those who are actually PAYING them to work so that they can support their families, give a childhood to their kids and put them in schools and give them a bit of the independence they can get from the suffocating society they come from. For me, these maids are the thousands of needles prickling my feet everyday. So, I'm going to give personal evidence to the horrific scenarios and emotional stress some of  these maids have given to me, my mother and poor grandmother.

 ( The reason for these lines of maids was that our maid of 20 years, X, had left us abruptly for a new and better job.)

Maid #1 = The Serial Killer

This maid will be termed F because she was an utter FAIL!!!!!!!! Not only was she incompetent but she also had a sadistic streak that has made us thank God that she left.
F was a neighbor of X and had recommended her after our bafflement over X's resignation faded and we demanded that she send over another maid. What a disaster F was.

It took her approximately three days to change her tune. My grandfather would take his daily tea at 10:45 a.m. and the first time my grandmother told her to make tea for him-because she was really tired and didn't have the strength to go down to the kitchen-F made perfect tea and sent it upstairs. My grandmother was glad that she was able to make good teas as she already had so many other household duties, especially taking care of grandfather's failing health she thought to give the tea-making duty to F. Still she first asked F that will she be able to do the tea-making and F gladly agreed by saying "No problem baji ( madam) I will take care of it. You don't worry." The next day, the tea was down right horrible. My grandmother asked her about it and she said simply "I have too much work to do already and don't have the time." Irritated, Grandmother told her that they had given her half the usual work and F retaliated by leaving Grandma's clothes swimming in detergent in a  plastic tub in the back of the house. Not knowing this, she sweetly told us that she has done all the work and left by three, although she was to stay till four-thirty. It was Mother who noticed the clothes when she came back from work late evening.

Mother called our X and told her what a horrible woman she had sent to us and even X was surprised and said that when F came home, she told X gleefully what she had done and said "Now they will learn to not to talk to me like that. Let them do their own housework." Even worse, she made up stories about how awful Mother is to her and how we bad mouthed about X to her. Mum denied it and was outraged.

(We did not deserve such treatment as Mother paid these maids fair wages and nobody in the house ever treated them with contempt or thought them below our status.)

Maid # 2 = The Non-Terminator.

Now this maid was K because she was a bit Krazyyy. She was working at a house down our lane so it was convenient for her to come work for us half a day. My grandmother is quite vigilant about the comings and goings of maids on our street as she knows that X would take days off (because she would be mildly sick or a far relative would be sick or an aunt's, daughter's father-in-law's brother's daughter would be hospitalized and she HAS to be there. Something which is beyond my understanding as it is not X that is going to drive the car/ambulance that will take these people to the doctor/hospital. Where are the parents? Siblings? Even grandparents?). So that's how Grandmother discovered K. One fine day she was walking down the street and befriended her. Since that particular day, whenever K would pass by, she would greet my grandmother which is very courteous of her.

When X left us, grandmother approached K to cook and clean the kitchen only, at least that burden would be lifted off of Mother's and Grandmother's shoulders. K agreed wholeheartedly. We were glad and she started work the next day. What a mistake.

It took K a day to make us regret our decision to hire her. K's cooking abilities were mildly bearable, and the condition of the kitchen after she had cooked was Horrific! We wouldn't dare enter the kitchen without our home slippers on. Even then I would be terrified to enter, knowing that my slippers would squish the fallen scrapes of vegetables, crush the broken eggshells and have one or two stray cats attempting to get into the kitchen to eat all the food on the kitchen floor. The sink would be filthy. Dirty dishes lying around everywhere. The kitchen counters stained with scraped off gravy and what not. It was the most disgusting place I had ever seen. Even after she had cleaned it, there would be a certain stink in the kitchen which would attract cockroaches, HUGE ONES, and Mother would come home from work and would have to kill the cockroaches before she even went to her room to freshen up. Mother told K the next day and K would reply "Baji, I would NEVER do that, I clean and clean and clean after every dish is used. I swear to God I treat your house as my house and I would never leave it even remotely dirty, if I ever do, you can fire me on the spot" she went on and on about how cleanliness is godliness and Mother thought it as a one time mistake and let it go. The same day, K left the kitchen even worse, she didn't throw out the trash and we could see clear that a lot of the dirt and scraps of food was shoved under the stove and the storeroom was a party house for cockroaches. Yuck.

Mother told her again and again and again, even the food was getting worse, the gravy was 90% water and the rice would be stuck together and bland. Dad rarely came home to eat because of the sucky food. Not a good thing. K had to go.

Maid #3: The Man of the House.

Now this Maid is A, usually this letter is associated with excellence, not this time, this time A is for AAARRGHHH!. I pitied this particular woman initially though because she was the breadwinner in her house and her in-laws were big idiots. This time my dad was sooo pissed with the maid situation that he said he'll handle the maid that would come next. So came A and my dad told her to get her husband for her "interview" (he wanted to assess A's relationship and background). He found her husband to be a joke and the father-in-law as a typical patriarchal man. The pity card was played by A very well. We put her on the job.

As she started work, she was fine. None of us were surprised that things went downhill after a week though. We didn't realize how downhill it would actually go. She was a banshee, the day of the end of the month when we paid her half for a her half-assed work, her voice echoed in the whole house. Okay, Dad could deal with that, he told her to leave now and come back when she is calm. She did that because nobody messes with my dad when he uses his calm but rage-filled tone. She comes back with her husband who out of nowhere begins to swear and curse Dad. Not in the house but outside, on the lane, in front of neighbors. Great. Dad is again quiet until the husband has nothing to say, then he says that if A and her husband don't leave and if they ever try to come back, he will throw them both in jail. They hurry away, but then A comes back after a couple of weeks with her mother-in-law at 2 a.m.! She says her husband has sent her, she really wants money and will even work for it. Mom and Dad let them in and discussed about the way this whole situation was handled and again, rather than listening, she starts blaming my parents for putting her in this situation in the first place. My parents are astonished, they could not believe that this drama was happening in front of their eyes. They advised A to leave and I think they gave some money to compensate her until she gets a job somewhere else. 

The whole year my household was in turmoil due to changes in maids, until finally X's employers shifted abroad. Mother called her up and told her to come work for a while, if she doesn't like it, she can leave. X hasn't left yet. Thank God. Everything's right with the world again.